SO WHAT NOW!
by ElvenPwner
Summary: Middle Earth isn't real, they said. It's a great daydream, but get your head out of the clouds. Knowing so much about a fictional world is NEVER going to help, they said. Now Lena, Ana, and I are stuck in a tiny apartment with the Fellowship. Crud...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, which, believe me, is EXTREMELY depressing on SO MANY levels.

**Author's Note:** This isn't my main fic, but I WILL try to keep it going. And, as you know if you have stayed with my other story, just because it's been a while since I've updated, doesn't mean that I won't. lol. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

"achOOO!"

I shook my head to clear it. I'd sneezed so hard that I'm pretty sure my brain had rattled in my skull.

Not that I could feel my head.

It was too full of mucas and flu medicine for that.

I opened my mouth to sneeze again.

"Bless you."

The sneeze stuck in my nose, just like she knew it would.

"Oh, you suck," I informed my best friend as I yanked a tissue from the box.

Lena snickered and closed the front door from where she'd come in from shopping.

"No I don't," she said as she put her daughter's carrier down. "You know why I don't suck? Because I bought you Ramen Noodles and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy at the store."

I looked at her through bloodshot eyes.

"I'd squeal with glee, like I usually do, but I can't feel my head at the moment, so I'll take a rain check," I said gratefully as she set down yet another box of tissues on the table beside where I was huddled under two blankets, shivering.

"Umhmm," she said as she walked into the kitchen of our small apartment.

"My check," I started to yell to her, then groaned as the load noise upset my headache. I started again, softer, "My check for rent is on the counter in the kitchen."

Anastasia, Lena's adorable little two year old, ran out of the kitchen and jumped on me.

"Hey, Little Bit," I grunted as I tried to reinflate my lungs when she squashed them.

"Aunt Lilly," she said as she bounced. I glanced questioningly at Lena, who was leaning against the doorframe watching us with an eyebrow arched.

"She got a candy bar on the way home," Lena explained.

"'Cause you need MORE sugar," I said Anastasia in amusement. Lena's lip twitched in a smirk.

"That's what I thought too," she said as she walked over and scooped up her daughter in her arms, "but Anastasia BEGGED AND BEGGED AND BEGGED," Lena said as she tickled her squealing daughter.

I grinned as Anastasia shrieked with laughter before her mother took her to her room for her afternoon nap.

Then promptly started coughing, grimacing as my throat gave a sharp protest to the abuse.

Eyes watering, I glanced at the clock.

5:48.

It was about time for my class.

I was working towards my Ph.D. in history. I'd skipped a grade in Middle School, and through AP classes, I'd started college a Sophomore at 17. Now I was 18 and a Junior at Georgia State University.

My best friend Lena had her daughter at 17 and two years later, at 19, she'd become the strongest and most driven woman I'd ever had the privilege to meet.

She was studying for her degree in Aerospace Engineering at Georgia Institute of Technology, was the most loving parent in the world to a little girl she was raising herself, and, probably most impressive, she was sharing an apartment with me, a notorious slob who was allergic (or so I claimed) to cleaning up after myself.

I sneezed again, then groaned.

An exasperated sigh came from behind me.

"Lilly, for the love of God, just take some cold medicine."

I shrank away in horror.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the cold medicine off the table, shoving it toward me. "You are the only person over the age of FIVE whose maturity level actually PLUMMETS when it comes to medicine."

"Not all medicine," I said, cowering childishly behind my blanket, "just THAT medicine."

She sat down beside me on the couch and poured the vile concoction into a spoon.

I yanked the blanket over my head.

"Lilly isn't here right now. She died," I squeaked.

"Lilly, how old are you," she asked as though she were talking to a child.

"I no speaky Engy," I said.

She yanked the blanket down.

"Here's comes the airplane! Bzzzzzzzzzz," she said, waving the spoon in the air as though she were feeding her daughter. "Open the door for the airplane."

I glared at her.

"Open up, the plane has to land," she said in her high pitched mother's voice.

"I hate—," I began, glaring menacingly.

She shoved the spoon in my mouth.

Gagging, I hastily swallowed, then lunged for my cup of Coke on the table, chugging the entire glass.

I then proceeded to swipe at my tongue with my fingers, trying to get the nasty off of it.

"I believe I won this round," she said in amusement, setting the spoon down.

Still wiping furiously at my tongue, I intensified my glare.

She grinned triumphantly.

I grunted.

"You are SO on my shit list," I grunted.

She gave me a droll look. "I've been on your shit list more times than I can count. Nothing happens on the shit list."

I pouted. "It could."

"But it doesn't. I'm going to put in Lord of the Rings and I'll get you some ice cream for being such a brave little girl," she said sarcastically.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

She put the Fellowship of the Ring, then looked at me in horror as I began to quote the intro with Galadriel.

"You are such a geek," she sighed.

"Yes, but you love me anyway. Now, hush, it's Bilbo's birthday party," I said absently.

Sending me one last 'you're a little freak' look (which I completely ignored) she went to check on Anastasia.

About a millisecond after Frodo did his weird frog…dance…thing, the TV flickered, then went black.

I restrained the urge to whimper.

"LENA," I wailed. "FIX IT!"

She came into the room and looked at me in disbelief.

"You bellowed?"

I pointed at the TV screen. "Make it work. I want my Lord of the Rings."

She looked at the screen, then back at me. "You MUST be kidding me."

"Lena," I whined. "I'm sick. I'm an invalid." She still looked doubtful. I pulled out my big guns. "You made me take cold medicine."

She rolled her eyes, but banged the TV.

It kicked on, but froze on a screen of the Fellowship outside the doors of Moria.

"Ooooh, you made it maaad," I breathed, my eyes wide.

She glared at me.

"I seriously doubt the TV has emotions," she said dryly.

"I'm telling it you said that," I said indignantly.

She glanced at the cold medicine bottle, then back at me, her eyes narrowed in thought. "There's no way that it kicked in that fast." She cocked her head to the side, considering. "Then again, you DO have a natural high most of the time."

I grinned.

Suddenly, the TV, which had been completely frozen, gave a loud high pitched whine before the screen went static.

We both froze.

"Am I the only one having a 'the Ring' flashback right now," I asked nervously, sitting up.

"Nope. Creepy chick is expected to come through the screen at any moment," Lena said, her usually calm voice tense as she backed up to the coach.

We gave girly shrieks as the screen cut to a close up of Saruman's face for a split second, then went a blinding white.

Holding her hand over her eyes to block the light, Lena walked back to the TV and turned it off.

Then we both froze as it literally started raining men.

Hmmm, I like that song.

Lena and I frequently dance to it in our ratty pajamas with our hairbrushes as microphones.

Yeah, we're geeks.

Please excuse my ADD moment.

Now, what is your first instinct when a man (admittedly a hot man) falls from your ceiling to your floor?

You'd think it would be to scream.

Well, Lena did.

I, however, always the one for delayed reaction, merely stared at him dumbly in an oh-so-attractive mouth-open, eyes-wide, fish-like position.

That is, until another very nice looking man fell on top of him.

Lena and I could only look at each other in shock at this point.

Neither Lena nor I were so lucky again as the rest of the men started raining down.

I blinked as one landed on Lena, bringing her to the floor.

"Not possible," I breathed as I watched them come.

And then one, a very large and admittedly pretty one, landed on me.

Emphasis on large.

And heavy.


	2. Reality Nazis

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings...or a chocolate chip cookie. (sniff)

I wheezed as all of my oxygen abruptly vacated my lungs.

And blinked up at the face that was extremely close to my own.

Thirty seconds later (delayed reaction. I was sick. Gimme a break), I screamed.

Well, wheezed loudly.

Startled, Mr. not-so-light rolled off of me onto the floor, successfully cracking his head on the coffee table.

If I wasn't scared shitless, I might have cackled.

As it was, I nearly pissed myself as more men kept falling.

Abruptly, they stopped coming.

About two seconds later, Lena pulled a move worthy of a Gold Medal in the Olympics, leaping over the multiple bodies to the couch where I was now cowering.

We stared in silence as the men (there were nine of them, I counted) lay there, stunned.

Then, we grabbed each other and screamed some more.

At our terrified shrieks, then men shot up, drawing whatever weapons they had.

Including swords and arrows.

And a staff, in one weirdo's case.

Something niggled in the back of my mind, something I knew I'd kick myself over for not seeing later, but I pushed it back. My first priority was my best friend and Emma.

Emma, frightened by the screams, started to cry in her mother's room.

Lena and I glanced at each other and came to the unspoken decision for Lena to go calm her daughter.

Lena leapt off the couch and sprinted down the hall to her daughter, her long black hair flying behind her.

And suddenly I was alone in a room full of armed men.

"Don't let the witch speak. She'll put a spell on us," one of the shorter men snapped to the rest.

Straightening my spine and wrapping my courage around me like a (very threadworm) cloak, I distracted them so Lena could grab Emma and get out.

"Who are you," I snapped, putting my hands on my hips in the posture I'd seen my mother use whenever I'd snuck in late.

"I believe we could ask the same of you, witch," said the small man with the axes.

Little pisser just called me a witch again.

I glared.

"I am no witch, nor do I have any knowledge of the craft, and I would kindly thank you to hold your forked tongue," I snapped, then promptly bit my own tongue.

Why can't I think before I speak? Now I was antagonizing a group of armed men.

Smart me.

Incredibly, one of them laughed and lowered his staff.

Simultaneously, we all looked at him like he was crazy.

"She is no witch, nor is she a threat," the tall, grey haired man laughed, relaxing and leaning on his staff. "She is merely a girl who is as bewildered as we are."

They all looked at me, their eyes considering.

I tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Who are you, lassy," asked axe-boy.

"One might ask the same of y'all, considering y'all are intruding in OUR apartment, and are brandishing out-dated weapons in MY face," I snapped, my confusion making me cranky.

Sheepishly, they all sheathed their weapons.

The old man who'd spoken before, now looking amused as he watched his uncomfortable friends, stepped forward and bowed.

"My name is Gandalf, my dear girl, and these are the members of the Fellowship of the Ring."

I'm pretty sure my jaw unhinged and fell to the floor at that point.

Oh.

My.

God.

"Gandalf," snapped a black-haired man. He stepped towards 'Gandalf'. "_We do not truly know if the Ring is safe here. She may be a threat to Frodo."_

Oh, hell no.

They were NOT speaking in Sindarin.

Posers.

The old man's eyes twinkled as he responded in kind. "_We are no longer in Middle Earth, Aragorn. Though I do not know where we are, I feel my powers are heightened here. There is no evil in this girl, nor in her home. Faith, I sense that we were brought to this place for a reason."_

I, of course, had no idea WHAT they were saying. I only recognized it as Sindarin.

All I heard was "blah blah blah blah blah blah, Gandalf. blah blah blah pretty elvish blah blah blah blah blah."

'Aragorn' surveyed me doubtfully.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, suddenly painfully aware of myself in all my red and snotty-nosed, bloodshot eyes, thread worn pajama pants and Happy Bunny hoodie, flu-season-has-struck-again glory.

I sighed mentally.

"Who are you," he said at last.

I eyed him warily.

"I'm Lilly."

He hesitated, then bowed. "I am Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood."

I couldn't help it. He just said it with such a straight face…

I burst into laughter.

"'I am Legolas Thranduilian, Prince of Mirkwood'," I mocked, cackling. "Now, seriously, what is your real name?"

He looked so much like an affronted cat that I started laughing harder.

"Legolas, my Lady."

I stopped laughing abruptly and stared at him.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

At that moment, Lena leapt out from the hall with a baseball bat in her hand, giving what I'm sure she thought was a frightening Indian-warrior cry.

Well, it was certainly frightening.

"Aiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiai!"

She lunged at the man who I'm sure thought he was Gimli, the bat raised menacingly in her hands.

He dodged and whipped out his smaller axes while everyone drew their own weapons, prepared to defend him.

With speed that surprised even me, I leapt off the couch and grabbed the bat as she swung it again.

"No! No, Lena, stop! It's okay."

I yanked the bat out of the taller woman's hands.

"They are fine. They're just reenactors."

She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Reenactors?" She looked at them, then back at me. "Then how did they fall from the ceiling?"

I blinked.

Alright, she's got a point.

As one, the two of us turned to look questioningly at the 'Fellowship' who were watching us in bemusement and wariness, their weapons still drawn.

Lena and I looked at each other.

"Not possible," I said warningly, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"Lilly, I know it seems impossible—"

"A little more than impossible," I interjected, but she continued on as if she couldn't hear me.

"—but we SAW them fall from the ceiling. They have the accents, they fit Tolkien's descriptions, everything fits."

"And they speak elvish," I muttered, then shook my head. "No, it's not possible, Lena."

She gave me the 'stop lying to yourself' look that she gives me whenever I start complaining about the needlessness of going to college.

"No, Lena, it's not possible."

She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Don't quirk your eyebrow at me," I said, wagging my finger at her. "I'm the QUEEN of the quirked eyebrow look."

She looked at me, not needing to say a word.

"Fine, you Reality Nazi," I snapped, throwing my hands up into the air. "Believe them, but when we end up in padded rooms, I am SO stealing your happy pills."

She laughed and patted my head condescendingly. "Only if you can reach them, dearest."

I glared at her and her stupid 5'9 statuesque body.

"I hate tall people," I said, glaring.

"Only because you're short," she retorted.

I crossed my arms and glared harder.

"5'2 is NOT short. I'm just vertically-challenged."

She looked down at me in amusement.

"Right, and Grandma isn't OLD, she's just youth-challenged."

I sighed, conceding the point.

"You suck," I said, simply to get the last word.

She smirked and turned to the Fellowship, who had now sheathed their weapons and were looking at us in amusement.

Shit, I'd forgotten they were there. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

Her entire demeanor changed from that of a young college student living with her best friend to that of a mother, a nurturer, and a woman whose life had made her wise beyond her years.

Suddenly, I realized exactly who Galadriel reminded me so much of.

"So, you are the Fellowship of the Ring." She waited until they nodded before she continued. "I am Lena Claymore."

They bowed.

"We have a lot of things that we must talk about, but now, Lilly and I must know where you are in your journey, and what you remember of how you arrived here."

Gandalf looked at her, his knowing eyes keen as they looked at her.

"We were given no warning, Lady Lena," a black haired man said. "We were attempting the Pass of Caradhras. A shelf of ice and snow fell upon us. We were trapped in the cold darkness, unable to get out. Suddenly the ground beneath us fell away, and we landed here, though I know not where we are."

Lena glanced at me. She had always been the calmer one, the one with common sense. It was me whose mind was never quit, even in sleep, and who was always searching for answers, solutions, and knowledge.

I tended to be the brains of the operation; she tended to be the one with the common sense to put everything in motion.

She was calm and collected under pressure, never letting anything get to her. Under pressure, I got quiet as a mouse and my brain froze. Only she could calm me enough to think when I was scared or stressed.

And for all that she always commanded respect and attention by her sheer nature, she was not the one who knew Lord of the Ring's backwards and forewords and had written an entire research paper on Tolkien's works.

I was.

And I was expected to know what to do.

Heh, no pressure.

I looked at Gandalf, then at her.

At this point, we'd known each other so long that we didn't need words most of the time.

Calmly, she looked back at the Fellowship. "Gandalf, please go with Lilly to the kitchen. The rest of you may make yourselves comfortable," she said, sweeping all my blankets and tissues off of the couch to make room. "We will be with you momentarily."

"Aragorn, too," I added softly.

A black haired, grey eyed man stepped forward warily.

Lena and I glanced at each other once more, then turned and went to the kitchen, Gandalf and Aragorn following warily.


	3. of cold medicine and google

**Author's Note: READ!!!!** I, hehe, accidentally forgot that I had changed the daughter's name back, and in the last chapter, it said her name was Emma. It's actually Anastasia. So forgive me. (sheepish grin) I'm still in Vicoden land from my having my Wisdom Teeth pulled.

Chapter 3 (the chapter of DOOM and DESPAIR)

Since our kitchen table was too small for four people (it was barely big enough for two), I simply hopped onto the counter beside the stove, crossing my legs Indian-style.

Lena, tall enough to do so comfortably, leaned against the counter.

Aragorn and Gandalf, not sure what to do, stood there awkwardly until Lena gestured for them to take a seat at the small kitchen table.

The sight of the big men (they were both at least 6'3) sitting at such a small table was so hilarious that I had to stifle a snicker.

"Okay, so where do we go from here," Lena asked me.

I shrugged. "We find a way to get them home." My head cocked to the side as I thought (a bad habit that I couldn't get rid of no matter how much I tried). "Well, first, we should tell them where they are, find out how they got here, THEN find a way to get them home."

Lena nodded for me to take the lead.

Warily, I turned to the two men.

"You are from the Third Age of Middle Earth," I said. "You are now in the year 2007, in the country of the United States of America, in the state of Georgia, in the city of Atlanta."

Aragorn's eyes widened, but Gandalf didn't look suprised.

"The U.S.A is a country west of the continent of Arda, and hasn't been discovered in your time. A great ocean divides our two lands. Beyond that, I cannot say for fear of changing the future."

Gandalf nodded calmly, though Aragorn still looked shell shocked.

"I have been to this time before, though a few years prior."

Lena, Aragorn, and I looked at him in surprise.

"Seriously," Lena asked incredulously.

"I am an Istari," he reminded us with a chuckle. "One of the most powerful of the Council, and have many powers. Time travel is merely one of the many gifts bestowed upon us. Though we cannot travel into times in which WE live, we can travel into the distant future and past, though we are not allowed to change anything."

Lena looked at me in question.

"The Istari are wizards sent by the Valar."

Still the blank look.

"The Valar are their version of the Greek Pantheon."

One eyebrow raised in question.

"They're polytheistic. They believe in more than one God. Their chief god is called the Iluvitar, I believe."

She nodded, finally understanding. I turned back to Gandalf.

"What year did you come to?"

"I believe it was the years of the Second War."

I blanched. "1943 or so?"

"Yes, 1944."

I blinked.

No, it wasn't possible.

"Did you happen to meet a man called John Ronald Raul Tolkien in your visit?"

He looked surprised. "Why, yes, I did. Did you know him," he asked.

"I should only have been so fortunate. But it does explain how Tolkien wrote so much about Middle Earth to write the Silmarillion and book of the Lost Tales and such."

"Aye, I told him of the history of Middle Earth, but he too was an Istari of sorts. He could see events in the past as clearly as if they had happened to him."

I sighed, pictures running through my mind of WWII, of the Vietnam and Korean Wars, of the Twin Towers collapsing, of the current war we were fighting in Iraq, and of all the victims of chemical warfare. "The world has changed a lot since you have been here. People are disillusioned with the world. We have learned much, but have paid dearly for the knowledge."

He nodded. "Such is the way of the world. Now, I believe, we should address our coming."

I nodded, noticing out of the corner of my eye that both Lena and Aragorn leaned back and relaxed, clearly realizing they weren't going to be needed in the conversation for a while.

"What do you remember of your..um…'trip'?"

Gandalf leaned back and pulled out his pipe. "The others may not have noticed anything, but their eyes are not trained to see magic as mine are." He trailed off, patting all over his grey robes.

After a few seconds, I realized he was looking for something to light his pipe. I grabbed my lighter out of my pocket and hopped off the counter (grimacing as my feet and ankles protested the shock of hitting the floor) then walked over and lit it for him.

"Continue," I said as he nodded his thanks. I walked back and hopped onto the counter, resuming my comfortable position.

"Around us, I heard Saruman's voice urging the blizzard and the Redhorn, and saw the essence of his magic glimmering in the snow as it fell." He paused and looked up at me. "That was no natural blizzard. It was the creation of Saruman."

"So you think Saruman sent you," I said.

"I am not sure. Saruman's mark was clear in the snow, but I know of no spell powerful enough to send a group, or even one person, to another time. The spell that allows wizards to travel through time works only for the caster, no other. I do not know who did it."

I narrowed my eyes at him and my head tilted to the side. "You don't know," I whispered to myself. Then louder, "You don't know for sure but you have suspicions, don't you?"

He looked back up at me and smiled, his eyes twinkling. He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Clever girl. Yes, I have suspicions."

"Who?"

"Even if there were a spell that could do such a thing, no one, not even the most powerful of the Council, has the power to do it. It would take the entire Council of the Wise working together to send even one person."

"Yes," I said dryly, "We've established who COULDN'T do it, but that isn't what we're trying to find out, is it? Why are you dancing around with riddles," I asked him.

"You would be disrupting the fabric of time, whose threads are stronger than mithril. To even bend those threads requires a power so great and terrible that it cannot be imagined."

I leaned back and studied him, fairly sure where he was going with this. "Unless, of course, you were the one that created the threads of time. If you were the one who could manipulate time and space because you were the one who created it."

Gandalf laughed merrily, his wise eyes sparkling with mirth. "Sharp as a whip, just as I suspected. Yes, that is who I believe sent us here, though I do not know why."

"Wait, who was it? Who did it? You jumped from point A to point Q and the rest of us aren't quick enough to follow," Lena said, her lip twitching in amusement.

"I admit I find myself confused as well," Aragorn added, looking between Gandalf and me.

I kept my eyes on Gandalf. "The Valar sent them here. They are the only ones strong enough to do so."

Lena looked startled. "Why? Why did they bring them here?"

Gandalf answered this time, shaking his head. "I do not know, but we must trust in their wisdom in this. Now we must decide what to do now."

"'God helps those who help themselves'," I quoted. "Perhaps we should try to find a way to send you home."

"And if the Valar plans to send us home on their own time," Gandalf questioned, his knowing blue eyes level with my blue eyes.

"If they do not wish you to leave, then it will not work. They control all things. You will not leave until they wish it," I said, holding eye contact. "Why did you not tell me what you were thinking? Why did you dance around it?"

"A test," Aragorn said. "He did the same to me when we first met. He was testing you."

Quirking an eyebrow, I crossed my arms and glared at Gandalf. "Well, did I pass your test?"

"Admirably," he replied with a grin.

Oh, Sparky here was SO getting a laxative in HIS dinner tonight.

"Now we need to find a way to get y'all home," I said.

Gandalf nodded.

Rubbing my hands together briskly, I grabbed my beloved laptop and pulled it towards me, opening it lovingly. As it booted up, I grinned and ran my fingers across the keyboard like a lover.

What can I say, I'm a computer geek as well as a lit and history geek.

Unfortunately, I have no skills whatsoever in math.

Or science for that matter.

I booted up the internet and wiggled my fingers eagerly before setting them to the keys.

"Let's do this, boys! LEROY NNNJENKINS!"

Did I mention that I was also a World of Warcraft geek, too?

FOR THE HORDE!

Ignoring the bemused looks everyone sent me (I got them from most people; I was used to it), I opened word and started a list of things that could possibly work to send them home.

"I know that look. She's going to tune out everything for a while, so she doesn't need us right now," Lena said, standing. "Since it appears you will be here for a while, so let's go get you settled in. Lilly, don't forget to take your medicine when it wears off."

"Huh," I said absently, neither listening nor caring what was said. "Yeah, I'll take the trash out in a few minutes."

Shaking her head and laughing, Lena left to find places for everyone to sleep.

I was still focused on my list.

Wormholes were always an option, but it was unlikely I'd be able to find one.

Soon, I had a long list of ideas, and they were still coming.

I brought up a map of Europe, and that was when it occurred to me.

"Oh my God, I'm an idiot," I muttered.

Both Middle Earth and Greece were polytheistic, and their pantheons strongly resembled each other.

And I was off.

Each God and Goddess of Greece had their own temple.

And that include the Moirea, the three Fates of the Grecian Pantheon.

One spin the thread of life, one to weave it into the tapestry of the time, and one to cut the thread when the man's time was done.

And it was the threads of time that we needed right now.

Where was their temple?

I couldn't remember, so I did what any 21st century girl would do.

I Googled it.

"Son of a –" I stopped myself. My mother had raised a lady, and I wouldn't curse.

Out loud.

"What do you mean there is no temple to the Fates? They're the FATES for the love of all that is good and holy."

Scrolling down the page, I clicked on another link.

"Blah blah blah, no temple, blah blah blah, oracles blah blah blah prophecy of doom prophecy of doom prophecy of doom," I paraphrased.

Then did a double take.

Were those…

Coordinates.

"Score," I breathed, selecting and copying it.

Coordinates in the middle of a prophecy.

A little weird maybe, but whatever.

I looked it up on a map of the world.

Then checked it.

Four times.

"Not possible," I murmured, frowning.

The only land in the western hemisphere dedicated to the Fates was located…

In the US.

Stranger still…it was located in South Georgia.

"A little random, but convenient as heck," I said to myself.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you," said a voice in my ear.

I screamed and nearly wet myself.

Clutching my chest in a vain attempt to restart my heart, I looked up at Lena.

"What are you talking about, it's only been a few minutes," I said, confused.

She gave me a look. "You started at 2 p.m., it's now 1:43. And that's A.M. if you were wondering. You've been working for more than 11 hours."

I glanced at the clock and realized she was right.

Curses. I wouldn't hear the end of this; I knew her and she could, and usually did, mother like the best of them.

"Well, we've established you can do add," I retorted defensively.

She rolled her eyes. "Subtract. And yes, I can. And you didn't answer my question."

I cocked my head to the side. "What question?"

"Don't do that. It makes you look like an intrigued though slightly dense pigeon. And I asked if you'd eaten yet."

"No I haven't. And I am NOT a flying rat," I shot back, climbing down.

"No, but you're afraid of them," she retorted.

"I can't help it if PIGEONS ARE SPAWN OF SATAN," I yelled. "Lots of people are scared of pigeons."

"Nope, only you," she said calmly as she grabbed a small box of left-over Lo Mein noodles from the night before.

"And with good reason!" I put my hands on my hips and glared. "What do you think of when you think of demonic beings? You think of beady red eyes that follow you everywhere. What creature has beady red eyes that follow you everywhere AND a homicide complex? Pigeons. They're EVIL. Hitchcock had it right when he made _The Birds_."

"You're paranoid, it is as bad as you think, and they ARE out to get you," Lena said dryly as she grabbed my shoulder and steered me to her room.

I glared over my shoulder at her. "I hate you sometimes."

"Lilly, there's a –"

I tripped and went sprawling.

"shoe right there," she finished calmly.

"You suck," I told the carpet as I hoisted myself to my feet.

"Only because I'm always there to point out the stupid stuff you do," she said before pushing me into her bedroom. "You're sleeping with me tonight because I set the hobbits up in your room."

"But I want Mr. Fluffums," I whined childishly (gimme a break; I'd taken some more cold medicine a few hours before).

She sent me a look. "You have to be the only person in the history of the world that actually named their cell phone Mr. Fluffums."

I pouted. "But Mr. Fluffums loves me." I cocked my head to the side. "He hates _you_, but he loves me."

"Your cell phone is neither fluffy nor a male, and it could have happened to anyone," she snapped, checking to see if her daughter was asleep in her crib before starting to change into night clothes.

I snickered as I raided her closet for pajamas. "I seriously doubt many people can ever claim that their demon cat took their best friend's phone and dropped it into the toilet. Fewer still could say it happened twice in the same day."

"Yeah, well now you're getting two doses of cold medicine," she shot back triumphantly. "How 'bout them apples?"

"Applesauce, bitch," I retorted.

There was a pause.

"God, you suck," she said, throwing a pillow at me as she got into bed.

Cackling in triumph, I slid into bed and grabbed the box of Lo Mein.

"So, what did you do to the Fellowship," I asked, shoving the noodles o' awesomeness into my mouth as fast as I could.

"I killed them all," she said sarcastically. "What do you THINK I did with them? I set them all up with places to sleep, then ordered pizza." She looked at me. "Turns out men from Middle Earth eat like a pack of teenage boys. I order FOUR pizzas and only got a slice."

I looked at her over the carton with noodles hanging out of my mouth slightly in what I'm sure was a very attractive pose. I sucked the noodles into my mouth. "And you're surprised? There's truth to the saying that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

She sank into the covers. "True. And it was so cute to see Pippin's face light up as he saw the mushroom pizza."

I sniffled slightly as I looked down at the sad, sad sight of the now noodle-less carton.

"Why are you looking like a sad puppy," Lena asked, leaning over to glance into the carton. "Oh."

I looked up at her with heartbroken eyes, back down at the depressingly empty box, and back up at her. "It's empty," I said in a small voice.

Lena, accustomed to my bizarre adoration of Chinese food, merely patted my shoulder and said (barely stifling laughter) "I'm sure we will have Lo Mein again, Lilly."

Sniffling some more, I gently sat the carton on the bedside table before crawling into bed.

I blinked as I began to feel drowsy. I looked at her accusingly. "You laced my Chinese food with cold medicine, didn't you?"

"Yep," she said, completely unrepentant as she turned out the light and closed her eyes.

"Tricksy hobbitses," I hissed in my Gollum voice as I laid down and closed my own eyes. "No coffee for you tomorrow."

She said something, but the cold medicine had knocked me on my ass, as it were. I was already asleep.


	4. Not so cool

Chapter 4 The chapter o' awesomeness

I woke up from a heavily drugged sleep to someone shaking my shoulder.

"Lady Lilly."

I blearily cracked one eye open.

"What do you need," I grunted as I struggled not to fall back asleep.

"It is morning, my Lady, and, well…we've not eaten in some time…" the man trailed off uncertainly.

"And you're hungry," I finished for him, summoning up a considerable amount of willpower to sit up.

"Yes, my Lady," he said.

I glanced at the empty bed beside me, then glanced at the clock in confusion.

"Oh my God," I groaned.

7:05 in the morning.

5 and a half hours of sleep.

Lena wasn't there, but I had no idea where she went.

Groaning, I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, then blearily felt around on the nightstand for a pony tail holder.

Hair now back from my face (meaning I could SEE if I'd only open my eyes), I checked on Anastasia (still asleep) then trudged out to the kitchen down the hall.

I kept one eye open to see where I was going.

I turned this eye to the man walking beside me.

"What's your name," I grunted in curiosity.

"Boromir son of Denethor, my Lady," he responded.

I promptly tripped over a shoe (I strongly suspect that it's the same shoe from last night, and it keeps moving to trip me), but calmly picked myself up and continued walking.

I entered the kitchen to find all the other eight men in there.

I stopped for a moment as my eyes widened.

I'm not sure how I didn't see it before. After all, the hobbits were significantly shorter than the men, or even the dwarves.

They all LOOKED like they were from Middle Earth.

Even Legolas had pointed ears.

Well, I've never been known for my observational skills.

I trudged over to the coffee maker and began to make some of the caffeine addict's wet dream that was coffee.

After a moment, I realized the entire room had gone silent.

Warily, I turned around.

They were all staring at me in shock.

I looked down.

Nope, I wasn't naked, but if I was, I hoped it wouldn't invoke that look of horror on their faces.

I was still dressed in my beloved hoodie and cheerleading shorts (the ones I'd stolen from Lena. I didn't have the grace – or body for that matter -- to be a cheerleader).

Oh, wait.

They weren't used to even seeing a woman's ankles, let alone their entire leg. It probably shocked their delicate sensibilities.

I shrugged.

They could get over it. I was comfortable and I was NOT changing.

"So, what do y'all want to eat," I asked, leaning against the counter as the smell of coffee filled the room.

"How about some more of the food we had last night," Legolas suggested hopefully.

"Apparently, you ate it all," I replied sadly, trying not to feel like the Grinch who stole Christmas. "But I've got cereal, I think, unless Lena found my stash of Count Chocula."

At their wary looks, I grinned and got out the bowls. I couldn't wait to see their faces when they tasted chocolate.

As I began pouring some into the bowls, I heard crying from the baby monitor. The men looked around in alarm, their hands twitching to their weapons.

"Keep pouring. I have to feed Anastasia," I said, taking another sip of my coffee before setting it down.

"Anastasia?" Boromir asked.

"Lena's daughter. I'll be right back."

I walked into Anastasia's room and picked the little blond haired, blue eyed girl up, setting her on my hip.

"Hey little girl," I murmured to her, setting her on the changing table and changing her diaper. "What are you doin'? You hungry?"

She grinned and nodded, her eyes still bleary with sleep.

"Well, come on," I said, dancing around the room with her before making my way down the hall.

Back in the kitchen, I filled a Sippy cup with milk from the fridge and set her down.

Anastasia glanced at the men once and promptly buried her face in my leg, peering around at them shyly.

"Anastasia, don't pretend to be shy," I said, smiling down at her and running a hand through her hair as I grabbed some spoons from the drawer. "I know you're not. Now go to your high chair."

I just finished strapping her in and put her bowl on the tray in front of her when I heard the front door open and close.

"Lena," I called warily as I turned off the stove. The men, so subtly that I barely noticed, had their hands on their weapons.

"Some help," she called. "I went shopping."

"At 7 a.m.," I asked incredulously as I picked up a bag and peered inside. "Clothes?"

"6 a.m. actually, and I figured we needed to get them each a change of normal clothes if we ever have to take them into public. Besides," she added, "they've pretty much eaten us out of house and home. I had to stop by the grocery store."

"And, uh, how much did all of this cost," I asked, looking at the many bags on the floor and thinking of the bills coming in at the end of the month.

The look she gave me said that it had cost enough that her wallet was screaming.

I winced, but realized it had been necessary. "Alright, go and have breakfast. We need to talk about how we are going to get them back anyway." She nodded.

As we all sat down to eat, I peered warily at one of the bags. "Lena?"

"You're feeding them Count Chocula, Lilly? That junk food has no nutritional value. Besides, I thought I'd found your stash already."

"Lena, why does that look suspiciously like a skirt?"

"What?" She looked around innocently, pretending she didn't know what I was talking about. "Oh, that. I, uh, bought Anastasia a skirt. She'd look cute."

I met her eyes. "Anastasia wears a women's size ten?"

"Oh, that!" She looked slightly panicked, like she had been caught. "That's..um…"she crammed a huge spoonful of cereal into her mouth, "hmmph sscrumd shmmm mooas."

"Need a moment," I asked sarcastically, reaching into the candy bowl and tossing her a Twix.

She glared and picked up the skirt, holding it out to me. "I just figured that the men would be more comfortable if we wore skirts, since that's what they're used to. We can be good hostesses, Lilly, and a good hostess makes sure that her guest is comfortable."

"Not at the expense of her personal safety, she doesn't," I said incredulously. "There's no way that I'm wearing that."

She thrust the skirt at me. "Come on. Don't be a sissy. It's just a few yards of material draped around your waist, if you think about it. Are you scared of a little cloth?"

"YES!" I snapped, backing away from the offensive object. She matched me step for step. "You know me! I'm gonna trip on that _little cloth_ and fall down some stairs and break my neck and die!" She chased me around the living room.

"Don't be such a drama queen. You won't trip and die. You'll break a leg, tops."

"Oh, now THAT makes me feel better," I snapped as I ran around the couch, placing it safely between us.

"Tell you what, you pansy. If you let me dress you, then you can drive when we go out."

Ooooh, she had me and she knew it. It was well known that her driving made me nervous. I was the better driver, and we BOTH knew it.

"I get to drive the ENTIRE time on the next trip we take, AND I get to pick the music," I shot. I was gonna get as much out of this as I could.

I knew I'd won when she sighed in defeat.

"Great," I said, accepting the skirt as I skipped past her to the hallway. "I'm going to go shower, and then we're going on a trip."

"What?" she called, but I was already in the bathroom with the door closed.

5


End file.
